Dear Sara
by Shipperwolf
Summary: Early Season1 fic. Michael and Sara meet in Panama after the convicts escape, and Sara has to decide whether or not to obey her own feelings...
1. Chapter 1

Okay, prepare for severe angst, sappiness, and romance with a hint of possible OOCness. This story is almost completely AU, because it was the 2nd fic I ever wrote :P

So it's old..way old ;) Like beginning of Season 1 old o.0

And remember: If I owned Prison Break..well, I'd be one happy lil beeatch .

* * *

Michael raised his hand and shook the empty bottle of beer, silently telling the bartender to give him another. He twisted the metal cap and downed it, desperate to feel some kind of effect.

He knew he needed to stop, he knew it wouldn't help forever, but it was all he knew to do to keep her out of his mind.

"Sara."  
Her name formed on his lips before he could stop it. He remembered the day he last saw her-the day he finally broke his brother out of Fox River.

--It was a normal shot session, and he willed himself not to show any signs of sorrow for what he knew he would have to do that night…leave her.  
As he walked quietly into the infirmary, their eyes locked…and he wondered if it would be her eyes that he would miss the most.--

He remembered her words as if she were sitting beside him at the bar.

--"Hello Michael. I hope you're doing well today."

Michael had seen her expression of pity. Lincoln only had 12 hours left before his execution, and he recognized that look of pain-the look that said simply, "I'm sorry".  
She would have never expected what would happen that night. She would have never expected to come to work the next day and find the prison in utter chaos.

That final appointment went by like any other had since the day she saw him with his wife. Both were silent, yet radiating with emotional tension. It was only when he stood to leave that she spoke up.  
"Michael. I can't imagine what this must be like. I can't imagine being locked in this prison, knowing that your brother is going to…" she stopped, afraid to say the word that was on both their minds. "You must feel so helpless, I mean, not helpless, just..…if you ever need to talk Michael, you know I'm right here."

He stared at a wall while she spoke words of concern. Concern for him. He had stood there, his back to her, debating how to react.  
He knew his first feelings were against his reasonable judgment, but he did it anyway.  
He turned to her , leaned down, and lightly, quickly, brushed his lips against hers. It happened so fast, she didn't have the time to respond before he was out the door.--

Now here he was, desperately trying to get himself drunk at an outdoor bar in Panama. Lincoln, LJ and Veronica left him alone when he got like this. All he had to do was tell them he was "going out" , and they knew they were in for a long night of waiting for his return. Lincoln lectured him. He listened, but never acted on is brother's advice.

Michael continued to drift into memories of Sara while gulping down yet another beer. Her voice, touch, and taste were still fresh on his mind. They were fogged, but still very much present.  
He wanted them to disappear.  
But tonight, no matter how much he drank, Sara Tancredi would NOT leave his thoughts.

He wondered what she was doing.

He wondered if she was still working in Fox River.  
He wondered if she hated him.

And, as if someone had cracked one of the empty bottles over his head, the decision hit him.

He wouldn't wonder anymore.

Abruptly he paid for his drinks, took his last beer, and walked down the beach to the home he shared with the last of his family.

Lincoln and LJ looked up from their card game at his sudden entry.  
Michael didn't even give them time to speak as he strode straight past them to the area of the living room that served as Veronica's study, where she worked to find evidence to exonerate Lincoln.

She stared in surprise when he reached around her to snatch a piece of paper.  
For the first time in what had to be three months, Michael set the bottle down for good, and picked up a pen.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he put pen to paper and began the letter that he hoped would end his intoxicated suffering, and, just maybe, result in seeing the woman that tormented his heart without even knowing it.

"Dear Sara..."


	2. Chapter 2

woot, ch2, plz review, and...well, flame, if u really, truly, hate it lmao!

* * *

Sara stood on a beach in Panama, staring straight into the eyes of the escaped convict Michael Scofield. The distance between them was unnerving, and she inwardly smacked herself for even coming.

She had received his letter two weeks ago, with a plane ticket to Panama attached. She hesitated before reading it aloud, trying in desperation to block his voice out of her mind.

"Dear Sara…

There are so many things I wish I could say to you now; I know you must still have questions, but answering them on paper would not be satisfying. Not for me.

If you still want answers, here is your chance. I can understand if you tear this letter apart, or burn it even-I probably deserve it. Either way, I'm here, Sara.

I'm waiting.

-Michael

His request seemed simple and complicated at the same time. But she wanted answers-she needed to know what it was that had gone on between them at Fox River. She wanted to know if the kiss that occurred the day he broke out was sincere-or another ploy to distract her.

It sounded so simple to go and demand these things of him. It sounded simple…but it wasn't. Her first thought was a resounding NO! repeating in her head. But for a week before her scheduled flight she read the letter countless times, thinking, considering, deciding.

She now asked herself if her decision was the right one.

He hadn't spoken yet. He just stood there, at the edge of the water, bathed in the light of a soon-to-be sunset. He was giving her that stare… the same stare he had on his face during the riot-when she first thought about kissing him.

She looked him over. He wore clothes befitting of him in an environment like this: long black beach shorts and a white muscle shirt. He could almost be mistaken for a surf-bum. Almost. His intellect showed externally, even in that outfit.

His hair had grown out just a little, looking like it wanted start curling, but wasn't quite long enough yet.

Something in her twitched.

She suddenly felt the need to close the distance separating them, to reach out and feel those muscles that lay achingly visible underneath his shirt.

She swallowed hard, gathered what little resolve she had left and slowly stepped toward him.

He waited patiently, like he had all the time in the world. It quickly annoyed her.

She had come all this way to see him, and so far all she'd gotten out of it was a silent stare. Her stomach tightened now that was toe-to-toe with him, and he greeted her with a deep, searching tone.

"I'm glad you came, Sara." she watched him cock his head to one side and look at her feet.

"You didn't bring any luggage with you?"

His question made her grit her teeth to keep from blowing up at him.

Did he just assume that she would come to Panama, jump into his arms and take a month long vacation with him? Well, it would take more than his natural charm to win this one.

"I didn't plan on staying very long, Michael."

The moment she said it she knew he had heard the uncertainty in her voice.

She watched his lips raise up just a fraction, and he reached out to touch her.

She suddenly wanted to hide, to run, to slap him, to kiss him, to push him down and give in to anything he wanted from her.

She needed to make a decision, and she needed to make one quick.

Now.

A/N-I just LOVE cliffhangers, don't you?


	3. Chapter 3

ch3 up, and i greatey appreciate the support this old fic has gotten so far:)

plz feel free to voice your opinions, good or bad, thanks--nik

* * *

Michael knew the moment he reached out to her that she would back away. He'd seen it coming.

It was expected, but still disappointing.

He sighed internally and almost began to regret writing that letter.

From the looks of things, she wasn't thinking along his lines.

"Look, Michael. This isn't…I mean, what are we doing? What am I doing here?" He heard the exasperation in her voice, and decided to lay the cards on the table.

"I know what you're thinking Sara. I'm a convict, and a fugitive, and you being here too long can only complicate both our lives. But I wanted…needed to see you. I guess in Fox River I let myself be too open, get too close. I didn't know what else to do but try to get in touch with you and…talk. I wanted to tell you that I'll be turning myself in soon."

She looked at him quizzically, almost like she didn't believe him, and then her face showed a mix of sadness, fear, and shock. He watched her move closer to him and give him that look.. damn…THAT look. The look that made him fall for her.

Michael's arm twitched as she brushed her fingers lightly against it before applying pressure, and her expression transformed into what he saw as anger. Her voice, however, was quiet and contained.

"You do realize that you'll be imprisoned for much longer than before. And you may not be sent back to Fox River. Even if you were, I won't jeopardize my job for a doctor/inmate tryst…even with you." he couldn't help but smile at her words. So determined, yet so unsure at the same time.

Michael broke the connection of her hand on his arm and backed a few steps away, his bare feet sloshing into the ocean.

"I'm not asking you to do that. And don't worry, I can get myself back into Fox River. No other penitentiary will want an escaped convict with my experience. Besides, if I'm going to spend 10 years or more in a prison, I'd like to be in that one. You could get to know me, Sara…the real me. There would be no secrets, no lies-just me. I'm not asking you to tie yourself down to a possible future with me. I know it doesn't work that way. But if I did my time I could be free of the obstacles standing between us. Maybe I'd finally get to take you to dinner."

He noticed her glare.

"Lunch?"

"Michael."

"A cup of coffee then." he saw the small grin that threatened to play on her features. His attempt at distracting her with humor was somewhat successful.

She was quiet, and he knew she was thinking. She had her head turned away from him, looking out across the beach.

He wasn't going to let her arrogance get the best of him. He wasn't the type to take no for an answer.

"At least do this, Sara. Stay the night. You can leave first thing in the morning if that's what you want. But just give me one night to know you as you are. A real person, Sara…before we once again have to fall into the pattern of a doctor/patient relationship."

She still didn't speak…it was unnerving him.

This time he really did sigh, and looked away from her back to the sunset.

Her voice surprised and relieved him at the same time.

"I guess…ONE night in Panama can't kill me. I did tell my father that I was taking a short vacation."

With that she smiled at him, turned and walked out to stand in the shallows of the orange ocean, and he knew she was still worrying about what the future held for them.

She wasn't the only one.

Michael did, however, get the feeling that her vacation would last longer than just one night.


	4. Chapter 4

hehe, since this fic was finished long ago, i can go ahead and say we're approx halfway thru lol! hope u like where this story is going so far!

* * *

She knew exactly where he had disappeared to.

When Sara awoke the next morning in Michael's bed, she reached over to place her hand on his arm to wake him….and found an empty space.

He had done exactly what he'd said he would do. He turned himself in.

She confirmed this when, after rubbing the blur out of her eyes, she saw a very familiar origami flower sitting on his pillow.

She carefully unfolded it and read the message that was written in perfect cursive within:

"See you in Fox River."

Tears threatened. He would be in prison for a VERY long time now, and when she went back to the States to resume her job as the prison doctor, she would have to act like nothing had ever taken place between them.

She would have to completely forget the previous night.

Closing her eyes to try and gain composure, rebellious liquid fell down her cheeks as the memory mocked her:

"_I'm glad you decided to stay the night. Coming all the way to Panama just to turn around and go back would be an annoying waste of time."_

_She smiled at him for the first time that night. They sat on the edge of the shore, the stars just beginning to appear as the sun made its final descent._

"_A waste of money is more like it. But I figure Fox River can handle one day without me. I was in need of a vacation anyway…"_

_He stared at her while she spoke, and she felt a chill run through her when the tide came up to hit her legs. When she pulled them back quickly, she saw him move closer out of the corner of her eye._

_He was leaning in towards her, a grin playing on his face._

"_Wanna go for a swim?" _

_He was nearly nose to nose with her now._

_She shivered and shook her head._

"_The water's pretty cold, Michael."_

_His hands were on her waist now…_

_His eyes narrowed and his grin widened._

"_I know."_

_Her breath caught and water engulfed her as Michael pushed her into the ocean shallows, careful not to submerge her head._

_Sand and saltwater covered her clothes, but she was too busy shaking to care._

_Teeth chattering, she sat up and glared at him._

_When a laugh ripped from his throat, she sprang forward to knock him down._

_The water rose and fell around them as Michael pulled her forward to kiss her…_

She had let go that night. She had given in to what she wanted most and opened herself to him.

She had never been so content as she fell asleep against his chest….

And now it was over.

Climbing out of bed she looked at her watch, noting that it was still early.

No sound was made in the house. She was certain Lincoln had no idea his brother was gone.

She would have to wake him, and endure the panic attack she knew was sure to come.

And then she would leave. She would go back to work, and find him sitting in her infirmary, just like before.

Flirting with her, just like before.

A convict and a patient, just like before.

But unlike before, she would know what could have been between them, if he was not a prisoner in a penitentiary .

She would know what it was like to feel him kiss her, to feel his lips trailing down her skin and his hands memorizing every aspect of her form.

She would know what it was like to truly be WITH him, in every sense, romantic and sexual.

And chances were, she would never experience that with him again.

Fifteen years is a long time to wait…


	5. Chapter 5

ch 5 and still goin lol! dont how yall feel bout veronica being alive, but...well, when i wrote this fic she was lmao.

i myself didnt exactly LIKE her, but i didn't dislike her either. she was so-so. and it was sad that she died.

but...anyway, here's more m/s fluffness!--nik

* * *

Two weeks after he'd turned himself in, the news was all over the prison. Veronica had found definitive evidence, and the conspiracy was revealed to the media.

Michael sat alone in his cell, smiling at the ceiling. Lincoln was free to live a normal life, as was his son.

The fifteen-year sentence that had been given to him upon being dragged back into Fox River was shortened the moment Lincoln was exonerated.

The original five years was his time to serve, with no possibility of parole.

And if he tried anything even remotely close to suspicious, Pope would tack on another five in an instant.

That was just fine with Michael. As long as Lincoln was happy, so was he.

Or at least, he told himself that.

Three weeks had passed now, and there was still no sign of Sara.

Was it possible that she never left Panama?

No, she'd told Pope she was on vacation. She had to come back sooner or later.

A tightness formed in his chest.

He preferred sooner.

Yard time no longer consisted of playing cards or strolling by the fence.

Not for Michael.

For Michael, yard time had become a hell of jealous inmates insisting on another breakout.

Most were kidding, bringing up the subject in mockery.

But some were dead serious.

Crossing paths with the wrong group of desperate cons was a mistake he couldn't afford to make.

But it was inevitable.

All he had to say was "no".

A few threats and curses later, pain shot through his head in the form of a stone-filled sock.

The first thing he recognized was the voice. Breaking through the fog that was his mind, Michael strained to concentrate and listen.

Muffled speech passed through what he knew was an infirmary room.

"He can't step foot in this place without doing something to end up here, can he?"

"No, I guess not.."

Cracking open an eye, the blurred image of the nurse, Katie, began to form.

He watched her back turn from him, and his vision jumped from clear to fuzzy at the sight of movement.

The door closed, and he was remotely aware that she had left the room.

Despite severe dizziness, Michael knew he wasn't alone.

His heart rate rose as he saw the red flash go past the bed he was lying in.

His lips opened to speak her name, but no words could form.

He barely registered the feeling of her hand on his cheek before he lost consciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

those who have kept up w/ this so far..thank you sooo much! i appreciate it lotses. love!-nik

* * *

A blurred image of an infirmary room met Michael's eyes. 

His first thought was to lift his head to look around…

Pain seemed to sear through his skull at the slight movement.

Deciding that was NOT the best idea, he opted for another.

Find out whether the person he had seen was really Sara…

"Sara?"

No answer. Unable to turn his head in any direction, he lay facing the cabinet, which, he noted, no longer held the flower he had once made for her.

A small step from behind startled him briefly. He couldn't see who it was…it could be Bellick coming to rough him up for all he knew.

"Who's in here? Tell me."

The person that appeared in front of him was not Sara. It was Katie, the nurse.

"Hello, Mr. Scofield."

Michael sighed, but the gentleman in him tried to put up it's best appearances.

"Call me Michael.."

"Alright, Michael. You got a pretty rough beating yesterday. Any particular reason why? Did you provoke them?"

She reminded him of Sara, sitting in this room, questioning him.

He didn't want to talk to her. Not because of her…but because his mind was focused solely on Sara.

"I didn't provoke them. They were in a bad mood and decided to take it out on the returning fugitive."

Katie frowned at his sarcasm, but nodded in understanding.

"As much as I know it hurts, you need to try and move your head a bit. The longer it sits to the right, the harder it will be to move it later. Don't want a stiff neck do we?"

Michael knew the nurse meant well. And he knew she was right. But his head was pounding with pain. And he wasn't sure he had the energy.

"I'll give it a try later. Is…is Dr. Tancredi here?"

The smile that was Katie's response told him two things:

She had been waiting for him to ask that.

And Sara was in fact somewhere in the building.

"She'll be coming in to check on you in an hour. She's very busy with some appointments, and sent me to check on you routinely.

Michael…she didn't want you to do this…turn yourself back in.

You have 5 years to serve…"

So, Sara had confided the details of their relationship to Katie.

He hoped this outgoing and sometimes loud woman could keep a secret…

"I had to come back….if I want to have a normal future."

"With Sara?"

Katie rose an eyebrow.

"Yes…with Sara…"

He figured since she already knew what had happened between them in Mexico, he might as well just come right out with it. No need to keep secrets from people anymore.

She smiled at him and rearranged his pillow before leaving the room.

Leaving him in silence…to wait for Sara.

One hour…damn clock…damn laws of time…damn it all.


	7. Chapter 7

almost done folks! i must say that i'm both surprised and thankful for the wonderful reviews i've gotten! they're all very appreciated!

for me, the kind comments from the readers mean more than the joy of writing. and as an aspiring editor/writer, that's an extreme joy lmao!

love to all--nik

* * *

The clock on the wall seemed louder then anything else around him. The room may have been silent, but outside the bustle of inmates and nurses reached his ears.

Each tick of the hand brought him closer to seeing Sara.

Only a few moments more….

Michael forced his head to the left at the sound of the door opening.

Sara avoided eye contact upon entering. His heart dropped at the action.

"Sara….hey…"

After what seemed like minutes her eyes lifted to his.

And he was greeted with a small smile.

"Hello Michael."

Her voice was soft….very soft. Too quiet. There was something wrong. His brow furrowed as she began applying ointment to his stitched forehead. She was again in her familiar façade of Dr. Tancredi.

A façade she took to block him out.

"Sara?"

Silence responded.

"Sara….look at me."

His tone became quietly firm.

And she reacted.

Her gaze lowered into his while she placed the gauze on his wound.

"Michael…you shouldn't have done this. Coming back….look where it's gotten you."

Relief washed over him at her words. She wasn't trying to ignore what had happened between them in Mexico. She was worried. And, from the intense look in her eye, angry.

"I had to turn myself back in, Sara. I had to…for you. For us."

He knew what she was going to throw at him before the words left her mouth.

"Five years, Michael. You have five years of this."

She lightly touched the various cuts and bruises on his body, finally resting on his split head.

"If they continue beating you like this, you won't last five years. You should've stayed in Mexico, Michael. You're going to die here…and I can't…."

Her fingers left him and she turned away.

"Can't what…Sara…"

"I can't deal with that, Michael. I've had too many unexpected occurrences since I met you…"

Michael picked up the hint in her voice. She was keeping something from him.

"Sara…if you need to tell me something…."

His eyes followed her hand to her stomach. And he suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Sara was pregnant.

There were no words of encouragement now. No flirtatious pun or kind gestures to make her smile. No charm to use to cover up his thoughts.

There was only truth.

And the truth was that he was going to be a father.

Thousands of responses flew into his head: shock, joy, fear… but he could voice none of them. Her name was all he could bring himself to say.

"What am I supposed to do Michael? You….have five years…"

He had come back to ensure a future for them. To serve his time and be able to continue on with a normal life…with her.

Now his child would have a convict for a father.

Forcing himself into a sitting position, Michael reached out to grab Sara's hand before she could place any distance between them. His arm pulled her close, and his eyes bore into hers with a pleading stare.

"Wait, Sara. Wait for me."


	8. Chapter 8

W00T! this is the final installment to this story, and i hope the ending is to everyone's liking. thanks again for everbody's time and support! hugs...even tho i dont like white chocolate ;)

* * *

Nearly six months after discovering Sara was pregnant with his child, Michael watched in despair as she packed the remains of her belongings in the infirmary office and prepared to leave.

He knew she had quit her job in Fox River to ready herself for becoming a mother. And to his relief, she already had propositions from a few clinics in town for when she was well enough to start working again. Even so, sadness gripped at his heart during his last appointment with her.

That was five years ago, and he was now gathering his own few items of clothing from his cell. He had successfully served his time. A long, grueling five years of avoiding confrontations with inmates and guards alike. Five years of standing alone in the yard, keeping to himself, trying his damnedest to stay out of any possible trouble.

Sara had visited him often, when she could find someone to watch Rachel. Rachel…his daughter…

A daughter he had never seen. Not once. He forbid Sara from bringing her into the prison. If there was one thing he could still do, it was make sure his child never saw him in chains and prison uniforms.

It was a sacrifice, not being able to see her grow from a baby to the beautiful little girl she was now. He had so many pictures lined across his cell wall it nearly covered it.

And now, he would finally see her face to face. He could speak to her, hold her, and get to know her.

Over the years he'd come up with several of his own made-up bedtime stories to someday tell her. Most contained talking kittens.

According to Sara, they now had three tiny cats running around the apartment, and Rachel spent almost all of her time with them.

Michael slipped into his normal attire for the first time in five years, relishing the feeling. The doors opened and the gate stood before him.

Lincoln stood beyond it, ready to take him to what would now be his family…and his future.

Sara had begged to bring Rachel to see him as he walked through the gates. But that would require her witnessing the prison. He would not subject her to any of it, not even from the outside. So they were waiting at the apartment, and he was certain they were as anxious as he was.

A long hug was his greeting from his brother. A hug so tight he lost breath for what seemed like minutes.

He was glad to see Linc, but the tug in his mind was focused on others, and the moment Lincoln released him Michael was in the car, ready to go.

"You nervous?"

That had to be the 3rd time Linc had asked that. The first two times he had responded with "no"….but in reality, he was nervous…VERY nervous.

"Yeah. I am. What if, what if she doesn't like me?"

It was a pitiful question, he knew, but it had floated in the back of his mind since she was born.

His brother laughed as they pulled into the parking lot.

"Michael, Rachel likes everybody. She just the lovable type of kid. She'll like you, count on it."

Three more stairs….two, one…Lincoln had to push him forward once he reached the 2nd floor.

His feet felt like cement. His stomach was in a knot. He head was swirling with things to say to her.

He was a mess.

They stood before the door, and Lincoln had to knock FOR him.

"Breathe Mike, she's not gonna bite you."

Michael had a feeling that his brother was actually enjoying his unusual nervousness.

A small voice sounded from behind the door.

"I'll get it!!"

Soft thumping came quicker and closer before the knob turned, and there she was.

His daughter.

Light brown hair, ice blue eyes, and a smile to make you melt.

The girl stood in the doorway and stared.

Michael cleared his throat and shifted on both feet.

"Hello Rachel, I'm…"

"Hey Uncle Linc!!!"

She cut him off. She knew exactly who he was. And she was ignoring him.

His heart dropped, until the image of Sara appeared in the door.

"Rachel! Say hello to him. Now."

Michael smiled at the firm, motherly tone in her voice.

But the girl ignored her, too, and slunk behind her mother to avoid eye contact with him.

Sara sighed, and stepped back to let them inside.

Hugging him tightly, she gave him a look of apology.

"She's just shy, Michael, give her some time…"

Nodding, he avoided looking down at the small hands gripping the back of Sara's pants legs.

Lincoln brought a voice into the unnerving silence.

"So, Rachel, you gonna give me a hug or what?"

Michael felt a twinge of pain when she instantly let go of her mother to run grinning into his brother's arms.

He understood, however…she knew Lincoln. She didn't know him.

It would take time, but he hoped it wouldn't take too much…

Rachel turned from Linc's hug to peer at him suddenly.

It was as if she had just now realized he was even there.

As if she just now decided she would acknowledge him.

"Hi…"

The tiny voice finally spoke to him.

A reflexive grin overcame him.

"Hey. I'm uh…Michael, your…your Dad."

He wanted to slap himself for stuttering in front of Lincoln and Sara.

He waited for a response from her.

She only stared intensely at him.

Sara's hand rested on his shoulder from behind him. He relaxed at her touch, and continued to be patient.

What Rachel did next surprised him.

She lifted her arms.

His daughter wanted him to pick her up.

Michael's heart nearly stopped in that moment, but he forced it to keep beating at a normal pace as he leaned down to grasp the child that was now trying to hide a smile.

It was a moment he had waited for for five years. And it was exactly as he'd pictured it.

Sara joined the hug, and Lincoln began to back away before she pulled him into the huddle.

Now if only there was someone to take a picture and turn it into a Christmas card….

Christmas. It was almost Christmas. Michael had completely forgotten that it was December.

He looked down at the little girl in his arms.

"Rachel, what do you want Santa to bring you for Christmas?"

He figured Santa was as good a conversation-starter as any.

Her eyes lit up and she pointed to the orange tabby kittens playing on the floor beside them.

"Another one!"


End file.
